Earthgrazers
by SkylaraK
Summary: “What are you doing here, Booth?”  Shrugging, he said, “I wanted to see a shooting star.”  CBPC August.  BB Fluff.


This is for CBPC August. I'm not sure if it quite fits the rules set out, but hopefully it's okay.

Disclaimer: I wished upon a star, but to no avail. I don't own Bones and probably never will.

Thanks to FauxMaven for checking this over, and thanks to my husband for the inspiration.

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The sand was cool underfoot. The grains slid over and between her toes, more liquid than solid, as her feet carried her onward over shifting rises on her way to a dark, quiet beach. The sibilant swish of waves smashing against the land reached her ears, though she still couldn't spot the water in the darkness. Rough grass tickled her calves and she moved away from the plants, seeking a clear path through the dunes. The oversized bag slung over her shoulder slipped a little and she tugged it upwards, leaning her body slightly to one side in an attempt to keep it in place. The blanket under her other arm was bulky and getting heavy, but she trudged on, with only the whisper of her feet through sand and the hiss of the ocean keeping her company.

Finally, she emerged from the maze of dunes and was confronted with an expansive, empty beach and black water. When she got within a few yards of the line of wet sand, she dropped her things with a sigh of relief. Lifting the blanket, she shook it once, hard, watching the ocean breeze lift it high, then let it fall back to the sand. She moved around the blanket, smoothing the edges, pulling it straight. She pulled her bag close and began removing items. She placed a pillow at the top of the blanket, then set a Thermos and a bakery bag along the side. After a moment spent considering the other lightweight blanket in the nearly empty bag, she decided against taking it out. The air was still warm, though the oppressive heat of the day was gone.

Easing herself down on the blanket, Brennan folded her arms under her head, leaning back on her pillow. She gazed up at the sky, dark as a raven, and seemingly just as alive. Searching the stars for familiar constellations to get her bearings, she first found Ursa Minor, then looked northeast towards Perseus. Resigned to a wait, she let herself relax. It was so quiet and the only light came from the stars. Even the moon was absent, improving the chances of a good show. She had stumbled across this beach years earlier and it had never yet failed to provide her with a solitary place to watch the night sky, away from the glaring lights of civilization. She let her mind wander and inevitably she thought of her conversation with Booth the previous day.

When she was young, stargazing was something she shared with her father, their special time alone. They went out whenever there was some special event, even on cold nights in November to see the Leonid meteor shower. She preferred the Perseids by far—not only for the better weather, but also because they put on a more impressive show. It was only within the last five years or so that she began coming out to watch the night sky again, and she found she didn't mind the solitude. It gave her time to reflect, a pastime she didn't often indulge in. But this time, for some reason, she felt an aversion to coming here alone. A twinge of regret flitted through her at her memories of the day before. She had wanted to ask Booth to come with her, but hadn't been able to work out the right way to do so. Every time she had mentioned her plans—to drive down that afternoon, check into her hotel room and catch a few hours sleep, then come to the beach after nightfall—he had changed the subject. She didn't think he'd done it on purpose, but it frustrated her and perhaps even hurt a little. But the end was the same; she lay on her blanket, unforgiving knobs of sand jutting into her back, thinking of how much she wished her partner were with her.

A streak flamed across the sky, jolting her out of her reverie. It burned bright with color, long and slow, skipping across the sky. These early meteors, 'Earthgrazers,' were always her favorite. The idea of meteors that, due to unlucky timing and location, aren't able to penetrate the Earth's atmosphere, just skipping along the surface in long, captivating arcs, appealed to the writer in her. Her father, though, preferred the fast, hot bursts of white that would come closer to morning. She sighed, regretting that her father was unable yet again to share this with her. She'd had high hopes that this year would be different, now that he was back in her life, but it turned out it was pretty hard to arrange a night of stargazing when your father was in prison.

The wind blew gently, warmly, off the water and over her bare legs. The rush of waves on sand and the rustle of air through the grass behind her was lulling and Brennan drifted into mindless abstraction, her thoughts vague and unformed, though images of Booth often popped into her head. She kept her gaze directed toward Perseus, though more often than not, her eyes remained unfocused until a meteor caught her attention. At points she was unsure if she was actually dreaming or not, but she found she liked the sensation and did nothing to test her state of consciousness.

After a time, she realized her eyes kept sliding shut. She opened her Thermos and took a sip of still-hot, strong coffee. While she figured she'd be safe enough if she did fall asleep here on this particular deserted beach, she knew Booth would not approve. At the unexpected thought of her partner, she wondered at the frequency of her thoughts of him lately. They had gotten to be good friends and since she had little experience with having close friends, she supposed these frequent thoughts of him were part of it. She was aware of her physical attraction to him—that had been obvious since they first met, but she'd never thought this often of a man she'd wanted, so she assumed it must be the friendship. After another sip of coffee, she screwed the lid back onto the Thermos and set it in the sand. She contemplated the bakery bag filled with snacks to help keep her awake, but decided to hold off a little longer.

She ached to go swimming, but common sense told her it wasn't safe. Sensibly, she hadn't packed a swimsuit, figuring she wouldn't be tempted. As she sat on her blanket, lonely, and with only a few shooting stars to hold her attention this early in the night, she gazed thoughtfully at the water. Even though it was night, it was still warm, and she could feel the dried sweat on her body from her long trudge through the dunes. She drew her attention from the ocean and back to the night sky, diligently trying to put the thought of cool water washing over her out of her head. Again and again the ocean called to her and after several minutes arguing with herself, she decided to give in. She slipped off her shorts before pulling her t-shirt over her head and for a moment she felt self-conscious, standing there in only her bra and panties. But then again, she was alone on the beach, there was no reason for shame.

She ambled down to the edge of the water, letting the waves lick her toes. It was colder than she expected. Turning, she looked to make sure she had walked in a straight line from her blanket, then eased herself out into the ocean. Waves crashed around her knees, startling her with their iciness, and she jumped each time a wave came her way. Slowly, she made her way deeper until finally the water came to her breasts. She dunked her head under once and came up quickly, rubbing the salt from her face. The salt and the cold stung her eyes, and the water was bitter in her mouth. Thoroughly cooled off by now, she glanced back toward shore, looking for her belongings. She squinted in the dark, only able to make out shadows on the sand. Then movement caught her eye, and she froze. She could see something barely more substantial than shifting shadows, something she recognized as the shape of a man standing near her blanket.

Standing still in the water, buffeted by waves, she hesitated. She didn't think he'd be able to see her out here, and if he had sinister intentions, surely it was better to stay hidden here. Maybe he'd think that someone had simply forgotten the blanket and bag earlier in the day, and leave. The cold seeped into her muscles and she felt tense and shivery. She watched the shadow-man moving, rifling through her belongings. Then he stood and took a few steps, raised his hands, and shouted.

"Bones!"

Taken aback from the unexpected realization that it was Booth, that he had somehow found her, a moment passed before she hollered back.

"Booth? Is that you?"

"No, it's someone else who just randomly shouts 'bones' on beaches. Where the hell are you?" He sounded frustrated.

She knew she was in for a lecture. Groaning inwardly, she waved at him. "In the water."

"In the water? Are you crazy? You do know that you shouldn't go swimming by yourself, don't you?" he scolded. "Come on, get out of the water."

They had come to the point that Brennan had been dreading since she first realized it was Booth. She didn't exactly relish the thought of approaching Booth while she was so scantily clad. It wasn't that she was ashamed of her body, but this was Booth, and she knew it would be awkward. Slowly, she headed to shore. When she emerged fully from the water and climbed the gently sloping sand toward Booth, she was grateful for the darkness. She noted his surprised look and open mouth with a smirk of her own.

"Turn around while I change," she instructed him.

It was a minute before he complied, and while his back was turned, she slipped of her wet underwear and pulled on her shorts and shirt. The light cotton clung uncomfortably to her wet, salty skin.

"Okay, I'm done," she said as she down on her blanket.

He turned around quickly and she suppressed a chuckle at the vaguely disappointed look on his face. Sitting down next to her, he rested his forearms on his bent knees, and gave her a sidelong glance.

"What are you doing here, Booth?"

Shrugging, he said, "I wanted to see a shooting star."

"But why here? How did you find me, anyway?"

Booth harrumphed. "I _am_ an FBI agent, you know."

She raised her eyebrows. "How exactly did that help you find me? What did you do, check my credit cards?"

Smirking, he glanced up at the sky. A flash of white shone against the blackness, and he pointed up. "Oh look, there was one."

"Don't change the subject," she said, nudging him with her elbow.

"Okay, fine, so I found out what hotel you checked into. You seemed kind of down all day, and I thought you might like some company," he explained, smiling hopefully.

"I do appreciate the company," she said quietly.

He brushed his shoulder against hers playfully, then glanced back at the pillow. "Don't have another, do you?"

She shook her head. "We can share."

They lay back on the blanket, their heads resting on the pillow and nearly touching as they both tried to keep Perseus in view. Whether on purpose or subconsciously, they stretched their legs out at an angle to put some space between them, attempting to diffuse the tension of their closeness.

"So you knew where I was staying, but how did you find me here, though?"

"That was a little trickier. I would have been here much earlier, but I had to visit four other beaches."

They were quiet for a few minutes, both thinking about what Booth's level of commitment to finding her just to ease her loneliness might mean. They watched the sky, pleased to see another meteor. Brennan explained that as morning approached there would be more and more, peaking at about eighty an hour at around four or five o'clock.

It felt strange to be lying on a beach at midnight with her partner. Her skin itched from the salt and she was cold, but was reluctant to pull out the other blanket. If she covered herself with it, she would have to offer to share with him, and if he accepted, then they would not only be sharing a pillow but lying under the same blanket. Coupled with the fact that she felt half-naked without a bra or panties on, it just seemed to be too much. Then the breeze picked up and she couldn't help it, she shivered.

Booth glanced over at her. "Are you cold?"

"Just a little. I'm fine."

He turned his face back to the sky. "I don't know how you can be cold. It's hot as hell."

"Well, Booth, I'm not wearing a sweatshirt," she grumbled. "And speaking of which, why on Earth would you wear a sweatshirt in the middle of the summer?"

"Hey, give me a break. I thought it would be cold, you know, it's night, we're on the ocean," he said, then pointed to her. "And excuse me, but didn't you just say you'recold?"

"I was just in the ocean. The water's freezing. And I don't have a sweatshirt."

With a grumble, Booth sat up and grabbed the back of his sweatshirt, pulling it over his head in one smooth motion. He tossed it to her. "Well, you do now."

She sat and gawked at him. He wasn't wearing anything under the sweatshirt and she had a clear and up-close view of his impressive musculature. He lay back down and fixed his eyes on the stars above. Brennan, for her part, fixed her eyes on his deliciously tanned skin. When she didn't move to put on the sweatshirt, he turned back to her.

"Aren't you going to put it on?"

Glancing down at the sweatshirt in her lap as if just then aware of it, she wrinkled her nose. "Isn't it all sweaty?"

He stared at her incredulously, then shook his head. "I give you the shirt off my back, and you won't even wear it?"

Impulsively, she dropped the shirt into her bag and pulled out the lighter blanket. She draped it over herself and with a pang, flipped part of it over his bare chest.

"How's that? Now you won't get cold, and I won't get sweaty."

Rolling over onto his side, he grinned up at her as the blanket fell off him. "You had that blanket all along? You were just hoping I'd take my shirt off, weren't you?" He flexed his muscles. "Like what you see, huh?" he asked, smirking.

Her cheeks burned. "No, that's not—you, you're totally missing the point," she protested.

"Sure, sure," he said, eyes twinkling, and he lay back down, conspicuously leaving himself uncovered.

With a huff, she lay next to him. With an endearing gentleness, Booth broke the silence, making small talk with her until they were truly engaged in conversation. Instead of the things they normally talked about, they took turns talking about their childhoods, favorite games and books (she was unsurprised to find that in high school, he had hated _A Farewell to Arms_, but loved _Lord of the Flies_). He talked about Parker's latest antics, and she told him about the trouble Zack and Hodgins had gotten into the previous week. At some point, he had reached over and gently placed his hand over hers. It felt so natural that she didn't even notice at first, and when she did, she decided that she liked the feel of him.

As the night wore on, they marveled over the beauty of the shooting stars. She pointed out Mars, one bright red light in a sea of white stars. The meteors started appearing more and more frequently, and Brennan realized that dawn must be nearing, though the sky was still as black as ever. She felt so at ease and content here with Booth and was sad that this strange, wonderful night was nearly over. They fell silent as the meteor shower peaked, both absorbed in the beauty of those bright white sparks raining down from the depths of space.

Gradually, the sky began to brighten and the stars dimmed. When there were no longer any stars to be seen, they sat up and gazed out at the ocean. By unspoken agreement, they stayed to watch the sunrise. As the sun began to emerge from out of the sea, the sky caught fire and Booth's arm slipped around Brennan's shoulders. He drew her close, sharing warmth as they admired the apricot and coral hues painting the sky. She turned to him to thank him for his company, for his friendship, for whatever he was offering her here. She found him already looking at her.

"Booth," she began, but was unable to say more. Before she realized what was happening, his lips were on hers, soft but firm, tender but hungry. Her mouth moved against his, tasting him. His free arm came up and he placed his palm gently against her cheek, tracing her jaw, her hairline, her eyelashes with the tips of his fingers. As she opened her mouth to him, she wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing herself as tightly to him as she could manage. She felt something swelling in her chest, and whether it was fear or joy, panic or excitement, she couldn't tell. When it became too much, she pulled her lips from his, though she still held him closely.

She opened her mouth to speak, but he shook his head.

"Don't. We're exhausted, let's figure this out later. Just…don't panic," he said, and his tone held a definite note of pleading.

After a moment, she nodded. She glanced again at the sky, all fiery and scarlet. Looking back toward Booth, she said, "We have a few hours before checkout. Maybe we should get some sleep."

"Sounds like a good idea," he replied, grinning boyishly. She couldn't help thinking that he looked relieved—maybe that she hadn't run off or slapped him. He pulled his sweatshirt back on before helping her pack up her belongings. Willingly shouldering the bag, Booth followed her, weaving around dunes, back to their cars and reality. She wasn't sure where the events of this strange night would take them, but she knew the night had been too wonderful to want to share, and thus diminish by the telling.


End file.
